


Unforgiven

by DNAchemLia



Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen, NFA SeSa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-14 05:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9164227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DNAchemLia/pseuds/DNAchemLia
Summary: When Tim is abducted and threatened, the rest of the team must follow a madman's 'scavenger hunt' through the museums of D.C. to find him in time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NFA 2016 SeSa for sondheimmcgeek
> 
> Prompt: Case file, something that really brings in DC, maybe involving the museums and/or landmarks, or a "Tim in danger" story (I managed two out of three :) )

 

Chapter 1

Tim McGee leaned back and closed his eyes, sighing with pleasure as the warm water rose around him and enveloped him in lightly scented bubbles. It was one of his guilty pleasures, and a slightly chilly spring evening when he was not on call was the perfect time to indulge in such an activity. It meant he wouldn't be interrupted and he'd be refreshed and ready for whatever the coming week would throw at him.

Tim bit back a smile as he imagined what his teammates would say. Gibbs would just roll his eyes, seemingly accepting the practice as one of Tim's quirks, only to use it later when he wanted to make a point. Tony would tease him until he realized he wouldn't be able to get a rise out of the younger man and would then incorporate it into some McNickname to be trotted out when he wanted to embarrass Tim. He really didn't know Ellie well enough to imagine how she would react, but he suspected she'd take it in stride, as she did with most things.

He was dozing contentedly when he heard his cell phone ring and while he was tempted to ignore it, his ingrained adherence to Rule #3 won out and he hauled himself out of the tub. He grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist and stumbled out of the bathroom to the bedroom where he retrieved his phone from the nightstand. He groaned when he saw who was calling and answered, albeit reluctantly.

"Boss? What's going on?"

Gibbs voice sounded tinny and there was static on the line, but his words were clear.

_"Gear up, McGee. Dead Marine at Quantico."_

"But we weren't supposed to be on call!"

_"McGee! Now!"_

"Yes, Boss. On my way."

Tim started drying himself off as he went to his dresser and closet to retrieve something to wear. Less than five minutes later he was ready to leave, so he grabbed his phone and backpack and headed for his car. He was so preoccupied by wondering just what was so special about this case that his team had to be on it that he didn't notice the dark-clad figure approaching him from behind. At the last moment his danger sense kicked in and he turned, catching the blow aimed at his head with his arm. The pain stunned him for a moment and before he could react a second blow sent him to his knees. He desperately grabbed for the weapon but the attacker pulled it from his grip, knocking him off-balance. Before he could recover he felt a sharp pain in his neck and his cry for help went unvoiced as the world faded to black.

XXX

Tim groaned as consciousness returned, immediately wishing it hadn't. His head, arm, and back throbbed, he could still feel a slight burn where the drug that had rendered him unconscious had been injected. He tried to rub the spot and discovered that not only were his arms bound to the surface against which he was leaning, the rest of his body had been bound to the wall as well.

_What happened? Where am I?_

He blinked several times to clear his vision but the world around him remained dark. Just as panic was starting to set in he noticed a red, blinking light a few feet above him. He peered into the darkness and saw blacker areas that formed a regular pattern. Through the space his could see distant pinpoints of light.

_Stars. I'm looking at the night sky. From where?_

He listened but could hear none of the normal city sounds: no traffic, music, voices, or other indicators of civilization. After many minutes of silence, he heard the distant call of an owl and the soft rustle of leaves dancing in a brief puff of wind, but otherwise there was nothing to indicate his current location.

After testing the bindings on his wrists he winced as the stiff rope dug into his flesh. He tried to move his feet, but his legs were bound fast as well, only without the discomfort of rough fiber on bare skin. He was bound at his knees, waist, and chest as well, and his attempts to shift those bonds were equally unsuccessful. Clearly, whoever had abducted him and brought him here didn't want him to leave.

But _why?_

"Hey, is anyone there? Why am I here? What do you want with me?"

There was a harsh scraping sound and the dark shape above him shifted to reveal more of the night sky. Suddenly a bright light nearly blinded him and he squeezed his eyelids shut against the assault.

"What do you want?" He asked again and heard a soft chuckle in reply.

"I want to give you what you deserve, Agent McGee: punishment."

The voice, and the words it had uttered, sent a chill down Tim's spine. "For what?"

"You're a criminal. You should have been in jail years ago, and yet you continue to break the law. Usually at the behest of your boss, it's true, but he's not going to be able to give you a 'get out of jail free' card this time."

"What did you do to Gibbs?" Tim whispered, his heart clenching in his chest. He heard another chuckle.

"Nothing, yet. But give me a day and I'll break him. He'll get to experience true failure, the failure to save one of his own...unless he really is as good as everyone seems to think. I'm not holding my breath. You, on the other hand, might have to."

Unconsciously, Tim pulled at the ropes binding his wrist and heard a snort of laughter. "That's it, keep trying. You know they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. I'll tell you right now all the struggle in the world is not going to make a bit of difference. You're not going anywhere, Agent McGee. Better get used to it."

"What are you going to do to me?" Tim tried to keep his voice steady but there was just the slightest tremor in it. He was mocked by another snort of laughter.

"Directly? Well not much. The fun will start at dawn. I know you can't see it now, but there's a pipe leading to the well in which you're standing. I've adjust the flow rate so the water from it will fill the space you're in at the rate of one inch every ten minutes. I'm sure you can do the math, Agent McGee. You'll know just how long it will take before the water covers your face and you drown. Then again, the water's a bit on the chilly side, so if you're lucky hypothermia will kill you first. Neither is pleasant, from what I've heard, but of the two...I suspect drowning is worse. And the best part? Your team will get to witness it. A minute of video, once every hour. When you see the green light, smile. You're on candid camera."

"They'll find me. My team will find me." He remembered the reason for leaving his apartment. "They already know I'm missing."

Suddenly he heard Gibbs' voice with that same strange, tinny quality he'd heard on the phone earlier.

_"Gear up, McGee. Dead Marine at Quantico. McGee! Now!"_

Tim felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cool night air. "The call-out wasn't real."

"Nope."

"Doesn't matter. They'll still find me."

"Probably. The question is, will it be while you're still alive? Oh, and one more thing. If you try to help them, if you try to tell them anything, I'll double the flow rate. You'll just be killing yourself that much faster. Got it?"

Tim said nothing, his mind whirling through the scenarios that would lead to his rescue. Unfortunately, none of them seemed immediately likely. Finally he broke his silence.

"Nothing I've done warrants what you're doing to me. To my team."

"Keep telling yourself that, Agent McGee, but I doubt it will make this any easier. So long. Don't bother trying to call for help. You're in the middle of nowhere. No one will hear you, so save your breath. You're going to need it."

The light vanished and Tim heard the scraping sound as the grate that covered the top of the well (he at least knew that much now) was dragged back into place. As his eyes readjusted to the darkness, Tim stared up at the night sky still visible through the grate and prayed his team would find him, and soon.

TBC...

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Where's McGee?"

Two heads snapped up in response to Gibbs' growled question and turned towards the currently empty desk. Puzzled looks crossed both faces before one of them finally answered.

"No idea, Boss. He wasn't here when I got in. Maybe down with Abby?"

"I haven't seen him either, Gibbs."

"He's not in the lab. Find him. Vance needs him in MTAC."

"Got it." Tony pulled out his phone and punched a number, frowning as it rang several times. "He's not answering his phone."

Ellie immediately started typing and soon had the answer to the unvoiced question. "Still at his apartment.

"Ha! McTardy overslept."

"Get him in here, now!"

"Agent...Gibbs?"

They all turned towards the new voice and saw a young man in a courier's uniform hesitantly walking towards them with a small package in one hand and a clipboard in the other.

"I'm Gibbs. What do you want?"

He held out the package. "Delivery for you." He offered the clipboard. "You need to sign for it."

"What is it?"

"I have no idea, sir. I just deliver the packages." He pointed to the logo above his nametag. "Sorry."

"Can you tell me who sent it?"

He checked. "It's says T. McGee."

Gibbs snatched the package, ignoring the man's yelp of protest as he quickly examined it. "This isn't McGee's handwriting. Who sent this?"

"Sir, all I know is what it says on the paperwork. Which you still need to sign." He caught Gibbs' angry gaze. "Uh, please sign this, sir."

Gibbs pulled out his pocket knife and the man's eyes widened as he took a quick step back. Gibbs ignored him and started to open the package but Tony stopped him.

"Boss, wait. Remember the last time…"

"No SWAK on this one, Tony." Gibbs inspected the package again. "Something inside. Feels like a cell phone. One of my type, not yours."

"Oh. Could be a bomb, Boss."

Gibbs gave him a dirty look and slid the blade under the flap. It opened rather easily and Gibbs peered inside before emptying the contents onto his desk. It was a cheap flip-type cell phone.

"Looks like a burner. Could still be a bomb."

"Tell me everything you can about this package," Gibbs demanded as he turned towards the courier.

"I a-already d-did, sir," The man stammered as he held out the clipboard. "I just deliver the packages to the address given. 'Agent Gibbs, NCIS, Navy Yard.' The guard at the entrance told me where to find you after he checked everything."

"Who would know more?"

"Uh, whoever accepted the package. You'd have to call the manager. 202-555-1133."

Gibbs turned to Ellie, who immediately picked up her phone and started to dial as he bent to examine the phone. Suddenly the screen lit up, indicating a text message. Gibbs carefully picked it up, using a handkerchief to avoid touching it directly, and retrieved the message. It was a web address: .

Tony read the address over Gibbs' shoulder and quickly returned to his desk to type it in. _Here's McGee!_ was blazoned across the top of the page and there were two black spaces below. Tony sent the display to the plasma before he clicked on one of them. An image popped up that caused him to swear in surprise. It was McGee, standing against a curved brick wall, his arms stretched out to the sides and pinned to the wall by the ropes around his wrists. There were more ropes around his chest, waist and thighs, and he was standing in at least a foot of water that hid his feet from sight. His chin was resting against the top of his chest and he wasn't moving.

"Oh my God!" the courier exclaimed as he stared at the image in horror. He tore his gaze away to look at Gibbs. "I didn't know anything about that, I swear!"

Suddenly the other dark box on the screen lit up and a short message scrolled across it.

**Don't shoot the messenger, Agent Gibbs.**

The courier dropped his clipboard and ran for the stairs. Tony started to give chase but Gibbs grabbed his arm. "Security will get him. Call Abby. See if she can trace this."

Ellie was already typing frantically but after a moment she frowned and looked up from her computer. "The host site is unregistered. She might be able to track the video signal feeding into it, but…"

A new message flashed on the screen and they all turned to read it.

**Are you ready for a scavenger hunt, Agent Gibbs? Follow the clues to find your agent, but you better be quick. The water level is rising at six inches per hour. Two-and-a-half hours have already passed. Do the math.**

"Less than nine hours," Ellie murmured. She raised her voice when she saw Gibbs and Tony turn to her. "We have to find him before the water covers his face, which at that rate will take less than nine hours."

"Abby will find his location before then. I'm not playing some stupid game with McGee's life!" Gibbs growled just as another message appeared.

**If you try and track me, the rate will double. Your people are fast, but not** _**that** _ **fast.**

Gibbs remained silent, staring at the screen as the last message appeared.

**Keep the cell phone with you.**

**Have fun storming The Castle. 38.888747, -77.025997**

The message box went blank at the same time the image of McGee's bound form cut out, leaving two black boxes on the screen.

"Boss? What do we do?"

"Find McGee. Those numbers are coordinates. Figure out where this bastards is trying to send us."

"The Castle." They all turned to Ellie and she cleared her throat. "The building at those coordinates is the Smithsonian Institution administration building. It's nickname is 'the Castle'."

"He wants us to go to the Smithsonian? Why? I mean, obviously McGee's not there...right. It's the game. Damn it."

"Gibbs, what in the hell is going on? Where is McGee?" Vance demanded from his spot on the catwalk as he glared down at the rest of the MCRT.

"Abducted. Bastard wants us to follow clues to find him before he drowns."

Vance swore. "What do you need from me?"

"Find a way to track him so he won't know we're doing it. If he figures it out he'll double to flow of water into the well and cut the time we have to find McGee."

"I'm on it. Keep me posted."

Gibbs said nothing as he retrieved his gun and headed for the elevators, grabbing the cell phone as he passed. Ellie and Tony were right on his heels.

It was a beautiful spring morning, so the National Mall was full of the usual joggers, walkers, school groups, and tourists. Gibbs ignored them all as he searched for a parking space on the surrounding, equally crowded streets. He was lucky enough to find one about a block from their destination and they hurried towards the red granite edifice with its carefully landscaped gardens gracing the surrounding grounds.

The building served as a visitor center for the surrounding area and the museums that were part of the Institution. Unfortunately, when they arrived the building was not yet open. Gibbs called Vance and he promised to make some calls to get someone there as soon as possible. While they waited the team surveyed the surrounding area, looking for someone that seemed out of place - their possible taunter.

"Why here, Boss? Why bring us here? What's significant about it?"

"Don't know. Maybe nothing."

"But who would do something like this?"

"You want me to give you a list, Bishop?"

"We've made a lot of enemies over the years, Ellie. Probably too many to count." Tony turned to Gibbs. "Someone should be checking-"

"Already on it. Sent a text to Dorneget."

" _You_ sent a text? Right, shutting up. So Dornie is tracking down-"

"Anyone still in the picture."

"Right. Question is, who is the target? Was it specifically McGee, or-?"

"Starting there."

"Does this happen a lot?"

"More than I want to think about," Tony muttered and fell silent when he caught Gibbs' glare.

A few minutes later a rather harried looking woman approached. "You're the people from NCIS?" They nodded. "Follow me." She led them to the back entrance, unlocked the door, and disabled the alarm before she led them inside. "How can I help you?"

"We need to know who accessed the building recently, and if they left something for us to find."

A puzzled look crossed her face. "I can give a list of personnel and when they've been here. What sort of thing that was left would you be looking for?"

"Probably a note of some sort."

"I'll see if the janitorial staff discovered anything last night." She hurried to one of the desks and picked up the phone as Gibbs turned to his agents.

"Look around. See if you can find anything."

They both nodded and headed towards opposite sides of the visitor's center. Gibbs moved towards the front entrance and felt something vibrate in his pocket. He pulled out the burner phone and froze when he saw the alert for a new text message. He quickly retrieved it, frowning when he saw the message.

**Follow the yellow brick road**

**38.8913, -77.03**

"Bishop. DiNozzo." They immediately dashed over to him and he showed them the message. Ellie plugged the coordinated into her phone as Tony tackled the first part of the message.

"Yellow brick road. It's from _The Wizard of Oz_ -"

"I _know_ that, DiNozzo. What's it got to do with-"

"The National Museum of American History," Ellie added. "That's what the coordinates are for. So how… that phone has a tracker. He knows when you get to the right place and then sends the next clue."

"So what's in the American History Museum that has anything to do with _The Wizard of Oz_?"

"Dorothy's ruby slippers." They all turned to the woman who had let them in as she clarified her statement. "The slippers used in the movie, they're on display in the American History Museum."

"I should have known that," Tony muttered and winced as Gibbs hand connected with the back of his head.

"Can you get us in there?"

The woman stared at Gibbs and Tony, wide-eyed for a moment before she responded. "No, but I can call someone who can."

"Do it." Gibbs headed for the front door and she hurried to unlock it for him. Once outside Gibbs started running and his agents quickly followed, but not before Tony thanked the woman who'd helped them. She gave him a tight smile and called out "Good luck" as they took off after Gibbs.

"How many clues do you think we'll have to follow?" Ellie asked as they ran.

"How many museums on are on the Mall?"

"Just the Smithsonian museums or all of them?"

"All of them."

"About fifteen, I think?"

"Great…"

XXX

Tim jerked awake and groaned as he remembered where he was. It was light enough to see his surroundings now, unlike at dawn when the sound of falling water had awakened him previously. He looked down and saw that the water had risen past his knees. His feet were numb, and he remembered his captors taunting words on which would kill him first, hypothermia or drowning. The contrast between where he had been the night before and now hit him and he laughed, a desperate sound which ended in a sob.

Remembering that he might now have an audience, he looked up at the space where he had seen the red light of the camera and saw that it was still red instead the green that would have indicated someone was watching. He sighed and took another look at his prison. There was a metal ladder, newer than the well itself on the opposite wall. Once again Tim tested his bindings and quickly found that they were as immovable as they were the last time he had tested them. He tried harder and soon felt a trickle of blood as the ropes abraded his skin, with no sign of being damaged themselves. Tim let his arms go slack and sighed.

_I am so screwed…_

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Vance quietly walked into the lab, dreading the conversation he was about to have with its resident. Abby had her back to him and was bobbing to the heavy beat of the music blasting from the stereo as she prepared samples, presumably for Major Mass Spec. She confirmed his presumption a moment later when she started putting the small vials in the tray attached to the instrument and when she was finished she gave it a little pat and pressed a few keys on the keyboard. She turned around and gasped in surprise at his presence but recovered quickly.

"Director Vance! I didn't hear you come in."

"I'm not surprised," he replied as he nodded towards the stereo. She quickly lowered the volume and grinned at him sheepishly.

"Sorry, it helps me get in the groove. What can I do for you?"

"Is it possible to track a video feed without the operator knowing that you're tracking it?"

"Uh, maybe? I'd have to see where you're viewing the feed."

"Come with me." He turned to leave the lab but Abby caught his arm.

"Director, what's going on?"

He sighed. Best to get this over with now.

"Agent McGee was abducted." She gasped and her hands covered her mouth as she stared at him in horror. "The kidnapper set up a website with a video feed of McGee and a message system where he gave the instructions. He threatened to...hasten McGee's demise if we tried to track him. Gibbs is trying to find him by engaging the kidnapper but we need a backup plan. Can you help?"

"I...I can help, Director. I'll do everything and anything to save Tim."

"Glad to hear it. Come on."

The arrived in the MCRT's desk area a few minutes later. The website was still up on Tony's computer and the plasma so Abby sat at his desk and started to gather what information she could. Soon she had an answer.

"I could track it, but I can't tell how it's being monitored. If I knew that, then maybe…"

Suddenly the text box opened and a message appeared.

**You're trying to track me, aren't you?**

Abby saw a response box had appeared under the text box and she typed a reply.

_**No, I'm not, I swear.** _

**You're not a very good liar. You must not be an agent.**

She glanced up a Vance, clearly terrified.

"He doesn't know who is responding. That means he doesn't have video surveillance of this room. Everything must be through the website." He motioned for her to get up and they changed placed.

 _ **What do you really want?**_ He typed, hoping that a little pressure would cause him to slip up.

**I want to destroy the MCRT.**

_**Why?** _

**Because they can't follow the rules.**

The second box flashed and an image of McGee appeared. Vance hadn't seen it before but now he could understand Gibbs' anger. The agent was standing in what looked like a well, bound to the wall, with water rising around his legs. Vance heard Abby shriek in horror but he ignored her, his focus on pushing the man into giving them a clue.

**I warned you what would happen if you tried to track me. You just cut the time Agent McGee has left in half.**

On the video screen, McGee raised his head and looked around with a puzzled expression. He looked up towards the camera, but not at it and his eyes widened. He turned toward the camera and started yelling, but there was no sound. A few seconds later both screens went black and Abby started to sob.

"Ms. Sciuto…"

"He was so scared. He said 'I didn't do anything. Stop, please. I didn't help, I swear."

"They told him if he tried to help us, they'd increase the flow of the water into the well. Just like they told Gibbs they'd do if we tried to track him. Damn it!"

"I'm sorry, Director! I'm _so_ sorry! I didn't know-"

"It's not your fault, Ms. Sciuto."

"I might have just killed my best friend, Director. How is this _not_ my fault?!"

He guided her to Tony's chair and made her sit. "You were following my orders. You can blame me, if that helps."

"It doesn't. Damn it, we need to find a way to catch this twisted piece of s-" She suddenly froze, her wide eyes staring at the screen.

"Don't stop on my account."

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no, NO!" She looked up at him. "I've seen this before. I think I might know who it is. But why would he do this to McGee?"

"Who? Ms. Sciuto? Who do you think is doing this?"

She turned back to the screen with a grim look on her face. "Frankel. Simon Frankel."

XXX

By the time the reached the white rectangular building near at the northwestern corner of the Mall a guard was waiting for them.

"They told me to let you in and it's important. What do you need?"

"The Ruby Slippers. Where are they?"

"Uh, in the _American Stories_ exhibit. Past the staircase on the right, turn right, and the exhibit's on the left. Can't miss it."

"Thanks," Tony called back over his shoulder as he hurried after Gibbs and Ellie. It didn't take them long to find the exhibit and Tony stared with fascination at the iconic objects. Almost immediately the cell phone buzzed again and Gibbs pulled up the new text message.

**One small step for man**

**38.888, -77.02**

"The Air and Space Museum!" Tony and Ellie exclaimed in unison. "Crap! That's almost at the other end of the Mall!" Tony added and they ran back towards the entrance.

"Air and Space Museum. Get someone to let us in!" Gibbs yelled at the guard as he passed.

"What in the hell is going on?"

"Classified!" Tony yelled as he followed Gibbs. Ellie sent the man an apologetic smile as she ran after the two other agents. She saw him shake his head and reach for a phone as she hit the doors and stumbled outside.

Gibbs had stopped and was talking on his phone as Tony watched him anxiously. The lead agent swore loudly at whatever he had just heard. He paused a moment and dug out the keys to the sedan which he tossed to Tony.

"He figured out they were trying to track him and we've got less than 4 hours left. Vance is bringing in a suspect. You do the interrogation."

"What about…? Right. I'll catch up." Tony jogged off towards where they had parked and Gibbs started running towards the southeast, sending a flock of pigeons flying as he dashed past them.

They were both panting when they reached the large bank of glass windows that marked the front of the museum dedicated to humankind's search for flight on Earth and beyond. Again, a guard was waiting and let them in.

"Moon landing exhibit," Gibbs demanded between breaths. "Where?"

"Second floor, southeast corner, second from the end." Gibbs nodded and took off, weaving his way through the space module exhibit at the entrance until he reached the main corridor.

"Do you think Vance's suspect is the kidnapper?" Ellie asked as the ran up the escalator to the second floor.

"No. Accomplice. Maybe." They soon found the exhibit and waited. When the phone didn't give an alert after several minutes Gibbs swore.

"Did we misread the clue?" Ellie asked and before Gibbs could retort the phone finally buzzed.

**Allow me to get to the point**

**38.8883, -77.0166**

"I don't know this one." She looked up the coordinates. "Well, at least this one is right next door: National Museum of the American Indian. But what could he mean, 'get to the point'?"

"Guess we'll find out. Let's go."

XXX

Tony stood in Observation and studied the lone occupant of the Interrogation room, barely able to control his patience but he knew had to do it. Frankel, even though he was a lawyer himself, had demanded counsel as soon as he entered the building. The lawyer was on his way, and Tony only hoped he'd be able to get something out of the man that would help McGee.

Finally he left and entered the interrogation room where he was met with the angry but controlled gaze of Simon Frankel. Frankel gave him an unpleasant smile as he placed a folder on the table.

"Special Agent DiNozzo. Still an agent, I see. Or an overgrown frat boy. Forgive me if I forget which."

"Urkel," Tony replied with an unpleasant grin of his own. "It's been a long time. You've changed." The skinny nerd was gone, replaced by a fit man in an expensive suit, his hair carefully styled and his horn-rims replaced by contacts. He glanced at his very pricey watch in a pointed gesture and the smile vanished.

"Not long enough, and you clearly haven't. Can you tell me why the dregs of the federal agencies have dragged me down here? I'm a busy man."

"So am I, but we all have our problems. Some of us more than others."

"Ah, yes. Remind me, which of us is married, with two kids, owns a six bedroom house in the suburbs and brings home a six-figure salary? Oh, that's right. It's _not_ you."

"Yes, we see, you've done very well for yourself. After being kicked out of the ROTC."

"Probably the best thing that could have happened. I certainly bear you no ill will for that."

"But you do for something else, don't you?"

A flicker of emotion crossed his face. "No one likes to be humiliated. But that's not why you've brought me here. I suggest you wait for my lawyer. I'm sure you have the time."

"Yeah, time is something we don't have, and you know it."

He blinked. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about...and I'm not going to say anything else, so…"

Tony opened the folder and pulled out a photo which he slapped down in front of Frankel. It was a screenshot from the latest video of McGee, and the rising water could clearly be seen, as well as McGee's panicked expression as he stared pleadingly at the camera. Frankel looked down at the picture and his eyes widened.

"What's this?"

"I think you know what it is, so where is he? Where is Agent McGee?"

The smugness in his demeanor completely vanished. "I swear to you, I have absolutely no idea. Why do you think I do?"

"The man that did this set up a website with the video and included a message and chat system. Sound familiar?"

"Oh, God…"

"Told us if we tried to track you the flow rate of the water would be doubled. He's running out of time, so _where is he_?"

"Oh, God… I don't know, I swear to you on my mother's name, I have no idea where he is...but I think I might know who is behind this."

"Who?"

"I want immunity. I didn't do anything wrong, but I've seen how you people operate, and-"

"Just like you didn't do anything wrong the _last_ time."

"I was trying to _help_ you!"

"So help us now!"

Frankel leaned back in his chair, his eyes flicking back and forth. "OK, ok… I was poking around on a few message boards. Anti-military, anti government. Looking for things that might need to be brought to the attention of… Of the authorities."

"You think they don't already do that themselves?"

"I'm sure they do, but it generally looks better if the information comes from a private citizen. For everyone involved."

"Still trying to play the hero."

"Yes, I _am._ Because it's the right thing to do. Anyway, I came across a discussion on blocking someone's ability to track an IP address, and to know when someone is trying. There was a user who was giving advice rather freely. Someone asked how he knew all this and he bragged he had been planning for something and was going to put it to use. He didn't say what, but...he had a special hatred for NCIS."

"Did you get a name?"

"Not from him, no, but I did a little checking. I traced him to an account under the name of Blake Martin."

"And he probably knows you tracked him."

"Please." The smugness was back. "I've picked up my own tricks along the way."

"Alright. We'll check it out."

"Great. Can I go?"

"We still need to check your alibis." Frankel huffed in disgust. "But yeah, you can go. Just don't leave town."

"Right. Whatever." He stood and faced Tony. "I really do hope you find Agent McGee. He...he wasn't a bad guy, from what I remember."

"No. He's one of the best men I've ever known."

Frankel chuckled softly. "I hope you get the chance to tell him that."

"Yeah. Me, too."

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

Gibbs and Ellie stood in the garden surrounding the oddly-shaped, four-story sandstone colored building. The newest completed museum building, it stood out from the rest of the buildings that surrounded it.

"'The point', that's the clue. This building doesn't have any points in its design, everything is pretty rounded off. Something in the collection, then. I haven't been here before, so I don't really know."

"So we ask." It was now past the opening time and they entered the building without the help of a guard. The museum was as unusual inside as out, with a wide atrium open to the top floor and staircases winding around the walls to the upper floors. They quickly found the visitor information desk to the left of the entrance and Gibbs asked if the museum had anything with points in its collection. The woman manning the desk gave him an odd look.

"Many things. Why?"

To Ellie's surprise, Gibbs gave her a succinct but truthful explanation. Her eyes were the only thing that betrayed her surprise as she listened.

"I am not sure what we would have in particular. Our exhibitions are, well, rather different that the other museums. Perhaps that is the "point" this person was referring to."

"So we need to go through _all_ of the exhibitions?" Ellie asked. "That's going to take a lot of time."

"Maybe _that's_ the point," Gibbs replied. "He's delaying us. Let's go."

"Most of the exhibitions are on the third and fourth floors, if that helps," the woman at the information desk offered.

"Thanks."

They hurried towards the stairs and started making their way towards the top floor. When they arrived they started to walk through the various sections. The phone remained silent so the descended to the third floor. They explored those exhibitions as well but the phone didn't buzz until the were heading for the second floor. Gibbs checked his watch and swore. They had wasted nearly an hour. He checked the text and a new message appeared on the screen.

 **It's a life's work for** _**Life** _

**38.887994, -77.025468**

He showed it to Ellie and she typed in the coordinates in her phone. "National Museum of African Art. It's behind the Castle."

They wove their way through the small groups of people heading towards the third floor and soon reached the entrance. Once they had exited and were heading down Maryland Avenue towards Independence, Gibbs phone rang. He answered, listened for a moment and swore again. "African Art Museum. No, I don't know where we'll be going next. Call me when you get here."

"What's going on?"

"Suspect didn't pan out but he gave us a lead. DiNozzo's checking into it."

"OK, but we have less than three hours left, Gibbs."

He ignored her and started to run faster. Luckily it was only a couple of blocks to the building, but when they went in no one was at the information desk. They looked around for someone and thankfully a few moments later a man in a museum uniform appeared.

"May I help you?"

"'Life's work for _Life_ '. Does that mean anything to you?"

The man looked a bit taken aback at Gibbs' abruptness and Ellie quickly tried to smooth things over.

"We're doing a scavenger hunt and following clues," she explained. "The latest clue was 'it's a life's work for _Life_."

The man smiled. "Eliot Elisofon. He was a photographer for _Life_ magazine for twenty-five years. There's a special exhibition of his work going on now, and we have an extensive archive of his photographs, although that's by appointment only. Both are in sublevel 2."

"Thank you."

They headed down two sets of stairs to reach the gallery and waited as Ellie examined the photos on display. Finally, ten minutes after their arrival they received the next message.

**But it might be beyond Hope**

**38.8913, -77.0259**

"I know this one. It's the Hope diamond, in the Natural History Museum." She checked the coordinates. "Yep, that's it." They rushed up the stairs and headed back towards the other side of the Mall. The distinctive gold dome of the museum was visible once they rounded the Castle and they dashed across the expanse of green lawns and gravel paths until they reached the road that passed in front of the museum. They saw Tony waiting on the steps and crossed the road to meet him.

"Figured you'd show up here sooner or later," he quipped but Ellie could see that something had disturbed him.

"How did you get here so fast?"

"I was almost here when I called. Turns out the Metro's actually a little more efficient for getting here. Anyway, what are we looking for now?"

"The Hope diamond."

"Well, that's appropriate. It's supposed to be cursed, isn't it?"

Gibbs ignored him as he mounted the steps to the entrance. They entered the Rotunda, a large atrium that was open to the top floor's skylight, and Ellie led them to the set of stairs behind and to the right of the great elephant diorama that served as the centerpiece of the museum.

"Second floor, almost right at the top of these stairs. Jake and I came here a few weekends ago."

"Great, tell us about it some other time," Tony snapped as he rushed up the stairs. They followed and soon all three were standing in front of an exhibit case with a large, smoky blue diamond set in a smaller circle of stones on display.

"Well? Where's the message?"

"Sometimes it takes a few minutes."

"Damn it. He's delaying us on purpose. He doesn't want us to find McGee, does he?"

"We'll find him."

"Yeah, but we don't have time to wait around. I mean-" He checked his watch. "Two hours and fifteen minutes left. We shouldn't have tried to track him, Gibbs."

"What was the lead?"

"Blake Martin. He's-"

"Yeah, I know who he is, DiNozzo."

"I don't."

"Some cyber security guy for the Pentagon that tried to take McGee down for hacking. We took him down for murder instead."

"So why aren't tracking him down?"

"Because he's dead. Died in prison six months ago. Dorneget's checking on associates."

"So what now?"

The phone buzzed. "Guess we follow the next clue." Gibbs checked the phone and showed it to Tony and Ellie.

**There's no Promise of Paradise**

**38.888135, -77.02739**

"No idea, Boss."

"Freer Art Gallery. It's behind the Castle, too."

"Well, at least we're getting our exercise...thanks, Boss."

"Let's go."

The trip back across the Mall was hampered by larger crowds but they made it in less than five minutes. The Freer Gallery shared the Castle's careful landscaping and a large fountain graced the plaza in front of the single story white building with more than its share of arches incorporated into the design. A banner advertising the "Promise of Paradise" exhibit on buddhist sculpture directed them to their destination. They didn't have to wait too long before the next clue arrived.

**It's time to give up The Ghost And embrace The Darkness**

**38.8913, -77.0259**

"That's the Natural History Museum again, but what are we looking for this time?"

Tony stared the the clue for several moments and sucked in a breath as he remembered something. " _The Ghost and The Darkness!_ It's a movie starring Michael Douglas and Val Kilmer, based on a true story-"

"I remember that," Ellie interrupted. "It was about killer lions attacking railway workers, and that actually did happen, but… They're not here. The two lions' skins were eventually donated to the Field Museum in Chicago. They're not at the Natural History Museum."

"So are we just going to hope it's a mistake, or…?"

"Hope that any old lion will do. Come on."

"What if it's something else?"

"They we'll search the whole damn museum!" Gibbs barked. "Let's go."

Their third trip across the Mall took longer but they still reached the Rotunda within ten minutes and turned left into the Hall of Mammals. They found the lion exhibit and waited. Just as Tony suspected they had made a mistake, the phone buzzed once again.

"When we catch this guy, first I'm kicking his ass on general principle, and then I'm kicking it for this," Tony grumbled as Gibbs read the message and then showed it to them.

**Enjoy the Art of Tea**

**38.887993, -77.026456**

"Sackler Gallery."

"Let me guess: behind the Castle?"

"Yeah."

"Great.

Another five minute trip and they were entering a smallish building between the Freer Gallery and the African Art Museum. Another banner announced _Chigusa and The Art of Tea_ so they hurried to the exhibit and waited. Ten minutes later they hadn't received another message and Tony started to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"Less than two hours, Boss, and-" His phone rang. "Yeah, what? Uh huh. OK. Keep me posted." He ended the call. "Blake Martin had a son, Brandon. They're tracking him down now. We should-" The burner phone buzzed. "Great, what's the next step on this wild goose chase?" Silently Gibbs held out the phone.

**Look to the heavens through tensegrity**

**38.888256, -77.022829**

"What in the hell does that even mean?"

"Well whatever it is, it's at the Hirshhorn Museum, which, luckily, is only two buildings over."

Gibbs turned towards the entrance but Tony's voice stopped him.

"Boss. Why are we doing this? We should be tracking down Martin's son, or his associates, or, hell anyone who might have talked to him to help us figure out where we can find McGee!"

"Vance has people working on that, and as soon as they have anything that tells us where we can find him, we'll go. Until this, this is all we've got. The _only_ connection." He turned and hurried towards the entrance, leaving Tony and Ellie behind. Ellie started to move to catch up and Tony grabbed her arm.

"Bishop…" She just stared at him and he sighed. "Right. Let's go."

It didn't take them long to reach the odd, donut-shaped building that housed modern art and sculpture. Ellie spent a few minutes searching the sculpture garden before returned to the group in a rush. "I think I found it!" They followed her and soon they reached a strange structure of metal rods and wire. None of the rods touched, but the wires held everything together.

"The Needle Tower. I looked it up, and it's supposed to be a prime example of tensegrity-'a structural principle based on the use of isolated components in compression inside a net of continuous tension'," she read from her phone.

"So 'look to the heavens through...it.' What does that mean?"

"Try and find out."

They followed Gibbs to the space under the structure and once they were in the center they looked up, falling silent at the sight before them. The bars of the structure stacked up to form a perfect Star of David.

"I think I know where we need to go next," Tony murmured and Ellie and Gibbs both nodded as Gibbs answered.

"The Holocaust Museum."

The phone buzzed and Gibbs checked the message.

**To reach The Last Chapter**

**38.886992, -77.033021**

"That's it. The Last Chapter is the last floor of the main exhibit," Gibbs added.

"You've been there?" Tony asked and Gibbs sent him a look. "Right, stupid question. Let's go."

They managed to reach the museum in less than fifteen minutes and Gibbs immediately went to the front desk, flashing his badge when they started to ask about his ticket purchase.

"I need to get to the Last Chapter. It's for a case. I mean no disrespect."

"Of course. Follow me."

The guide led them through the building, which had a very different feel than the other museums. _Not surprising_ , Tony thought, _considering what this museum is about._ Finally they reached the exhibit hall and almost immediately the phone buzzed. They glanced at each other in surprise before Gibbs pulled up the message.

**Etlan, VA**

**38.530777, -78.296170**

Ellie quickly checked the coordinates. "Oh, God…"

"What?"

It's a place, near Shenandoah. It's 100 miles away. We'll never get there in time…"

"Come on." Gibbs ran for the exit with his two agents on his heels, ignoring the looks he was getting from the museum's patrons. As soon as he reached the exit he called Vance.

"We've got him. We're outside the Holocaust Museum. Get us a chopper, we don't have enough time to drive. Right. We'll meet you there." He snapped his phone shut and turned to Tony and Ellie. "Back to the Navy Yard."

"Boss, we don't have a car-"

"Don't need one." A few seconds later a siren sounded and they turned to see a police car pull up to the curb. The officer at the wheel leaned over and peered through the passenger window.

"You the NCIS people? We've been waiting for the call. Get it. I'll take you to the Yard."

"Guess Vance has been busy," Gibbs remarked with a slight smirk as he climbed in the front seat, with Tony and Ellie climbing in the back a moment later. The officer hit the siren and pulled away from the curb, weaving through traffic at a pace that almost put Gibbs to shame. It wasn't long before they arrived at Yard where a chopper and, to their surprise, Ducky and Jimmy waited, each with a medical kit. Gibbs quickly gave the pilot the coordinates and once they were all in the chopper rose into the sky and headed west towards the mountains.

XXX

Tim groaned and shifted slightly against the wall. The water was up to the bottom of his neck and he was having trouble holding his head up. He stared up at the camera and saw that the light was green. He tried to speak but he felt slow, sluggish, and the words wouldn't leave his throat.

_I know you tried. I'm sorry…_

The words went unspoken as he lost his final battle with unconsciousness.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

The chopper sped towards the west, leaving behind the crowded city for the quieter and more open spaces of the suburbs, and eventually the rural areas east of the Shenandoah mountains.

"ETA is twenty minutes," the pilot called out when the mountains became apparent in the distance.

"Cutting it close," Tony called back but the pilot ignored him. "Boss, what if… What if this is a trap? Or another distraction? What if we don't get to Tim in time?"

"We'll find him." There was no hesitation in Gibbs statement. Tony studied him for a few minutes before turning to stare out the window at the passing scenery. Ducky observed the exchange between the two men and moved up to take a seat beside Gibbs.

"Anthony has a point, Jethro. Are you certain we will even find Timothy at this location?"

"Got some additional info to back it up."

"From whom?"

Gibbs gave him a lopsided, albeit humorless smile. "Vance. Turns out it was possible to track him without tipping him off. Just took longer than we wanted. Signal's coming from that area."

"And he hasn't increased the flow rate again?"

"Not that they were seeing on the video."

"Good, that's good." He checked his watch. "We _are_ cutting it close, Jethro."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know."

Both men lapsed into silence until the chopper started to descend as the pilot searched for a landing spot. He finally found an open field that was big enough and brought the chopper down to the ground, with the agents hopping out almost as soon as it touched down.

"Spread out, and stay alert. Duck, you and Palmer stay here."

The group spotted a decaying house in the distance and started towards it, carefully watching for any signs of their suspect or anything that would indicate danger to them. As they approached they heard a soft rumbling sound and it took only a moment for Gibbs to recognize it.

"Generator. Something's pulling power." They followed the sound to the back of the house where they found the source of the noise, a large gasoline-powered generator with extension cords leading to the house and to a large, partially collapsed barn. They decided to check the barn first and soon found the tanker truck hidden within. The truck was hooked up to small pump and a hose led from the pump to the other end of the barn and out to what looked like a well capped with a round grate. The end of the hose disappeared down the well.

Tony immediately rushed over and pulled the grate off the well before shining his light down into its depths.

"McGee!"

They could see McGee's head and hands were still mostly above the surface of the water, but the bottom half of his face was submerged and he wasn't moving. Tony yanked the hose away from the well before starting to strip off his jacket.

"Tony, wait!"

"We need to get him out of there, Bishop. Now!"

"Let me go. There's not much space and...you might displace the water down there too much. It's almost too high now."

"Go," Gibbs ordered as he offered her his knife. "We'll find something to help haul him up."

She nodded as she tucked the knife in her belt, pulled off her jacket and kicked off her shoes. She had noticed the ladder almost immediately and quickly began her descent, hissing as her feet touched the cold metal. She carefully climbed down until her feet touched the water and hissed again. It was much colder than she had expected and she realized that if Tim had been standing in that for hours he was in much more dire straits than they thought.

Soon she was level with him and called his name but received no response. She let go of the ladder and hopped-swam over to him, treading water as she checked him over. She could see that his mouth was submerged but the water hadn't covered his nose so she carefully tilted his head back and checked his pulse. She felt a surge of panic when she couldn't find it but pressed her fingers harder against his neck and was rewarded with the feel of his heartbeat beneath her fingers. It was far too slow and weak, but it was something.

"Come on, Tim. Wake up." Ellie patted his face, wincing at the coldness of his skin, but he never moved. She checked and found he was still shallowly breathing so she pulled the knife from her belt and used it to cut the ropes binding his wrists. His arms sank into the water and she barely managed to keep his head from tilting forward again, but he still did not wake up.

"How is he?" Tony yelled down and she looked up to see he and Gibbs feeding a couple of ropes down to her.

"Alive, unconscious, probably hypothermic." She caught the ropes as they reached her and started tying them into a makeshift harness which, after taking a deep breath, she ducked under the water and started to wrap it around Tim's body. She felt the ropes binding him to the wall and resurfaced to report what she had found.

"Start at the bottom and work your way up."

"Got it." She took another deep breath and went under again, feeling her way down to the ropes around Tim's ankles. She carefully cut through them and resurfaced to take another breath before going down to free his knees. The cold water hampered her movements and it took longer than she would have liked to free his legs. Finally she cut through the rope surrounding his waist and resurfaced, gasping for breath.

"Ready?"

"We got him."

She cut through the rope binding his chest and finally he was free from the wall. Tony and Gibbs started to haul him up but one side of the harness came loose and he suddenly slipped under the water.

"Damn it!" Ellie pulled him back to the surface and struggled to keep him there as she re-attached the harness. "Go!" Tony and Gibbs started to pull him up again and she started to climb the ladder, steadying him as much as she could as they both made their ascent out of the well. When she reached the top Palmer helped her out and handed her a blanket as Ducky helped Tony and Gibbs lay Tim on his back before he started to check him over. The doctor swore softly and motioned for Palmer to help him. They started CPR as Ellie joined Tony and Gibbs.

"Ambulance is on its way," Ducky informed them between rescue breaths. "How long it will take…" He and Palmer continued their task and after a few rounds of compression and breaths McGee gasped and then coughed. Palmer quickly rolled him on his side and he coughed up water for a moment before falling silent again.

"He's breathing, but he's still unconscious. We need to get him warmed up, but not too quickly or he could go into shock." Palmer was already unfolding a thermal blanket and after they had stripped off Tim's wet clothing he wrapped it around Tim's body, leaving his arms free. "We need to warm the core first," Ducky added as Tony started to question what they were doing.

"Will he be OK?"

"As long as the ambulance gets here soon."

"Go wait for them, DiNozzo, make sure they can find us." Tony looked like he was going to protest but a look from Gibbs silenced him. He took one last look at McGee before moving off to the front of the house.

"You all right, Bishop?"

"Fine," she replied, willing her teeth to stop chattering as she watched Ducky and Palmer care for McGee. "He was so cold. I thought… He didn't deserve this. Why would-?"

"That's what we're going to find out."

"Is this Brandon Martin responsible? Is this all just about revenge for his father?"

"Maybe."

"God… What if McGee doesn't… I mean, he-"

"He'll be fine. Go get changed. We've got a scene to process."

"Right."

"There's a spare jumpsuit in my bag," Palmer offered and Ellie gave him a nod and a smile of thanks before she retrieved it along with her shoes and jacket and headed back to the barn to change. She returned a couple of minutes later but the ambulance still hadn't arrived and Gibbs was crouched down next to McGee, his hand on McGee's forehead and was talking softly to him. She watched the scene for a moment before heading back to the chopper to retrieve the equipment Vance had sent with them.

Tony was still waiting for the ambulance and was clearly agitated. When he saw her approaching he schooled his features to try and appear calm, but Ellie wasn't fooled.

"How is he?"

"They're just waiting for the ambulance. Ducky says he'll be fine."

"Has he said anything?"

"Still unconscious. Sorry."

"Damn it."

"He'll be fine, Tony."

"Yeah, _now,_ but if we'd been a few minutes later…"

She sighed. "I know."

Finally they heard the ambulance sirens and a few minutes later the vehicle appeared. Once it stopped in front of them two EMTs got out and after they had gathered their equipment Tony led them back to where Ducky and Palmer were working on McGee. The EMTs took over and soon had their patient wrapped in warming blankets and loaded onto a stretcher. Ducky followed them and climbed in after they had loaded McGee into the back of the ambulance. The rest of the team watched it drive off before Gibbs directed time to get to work.

Two hours later they had finished processing the scene and had the evidence they had collected and ready to go. As they were walking back towards the chopper Gibbs' phone rang. The signal was weak, but it was enough to connect the call when he answered.

"Yeah, Gibbs. Got it. We'll be there."

"What's going on?"

"Brandon Martin is waiting for us in Interrogation."

"Then let's not keep him waiting," Tony retorted and jogged towards the chopper, just as Gibbs' phone rang again.

"Yeah. Yeah, Duck, I can hear you. OK. Got it. Thanks." He snapped the phone shut and tucked it into his jacket. "McGee's still unconscious but stable. Duck's arranging transport for him to Bethesda as soon as he's awake."

"So he _is_ going to be OK?"

"They'll know more when he wakes up but Duck says everything looks fine for now."

"Good."

Gibbs chuckled. "Come on, Bishop. We've got an interrogation to do."

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

After leaving the evidence with Abby and giving her news on McGee-which required that Gibbs spend some time comforting her as well-they headed up to Interrogation to get a first look at their suspect.

Brandon Martin was seated at the table, his hands clasped in front of him and resting on the table top. He looked confused and nervous, but Tony suspected that was an act. If he was going to pull the 'innocent teenager' (admittedly pushing it since he was a month shy of his 20th birthday) then Tony was ready for him.

Gibbs and Tony left Ellie in the observation room and entered Interrogation. Brandon looked up as they entered, still broadcasting his nervousness as they seated themselves in the chairs on the opposite side of the table.

"I'm Special Agent Gibbs, this is Special Agent DiNozzo. Brandon Martin, you've been advised of your rights?" Gibbs voice was flat, neutral, but Tony could see the anger brewing beneath the veneer of calm.

Brandon stared at him for a few second before answering. "Yes."

"You've refused a lawyer?"

"Yeah, because I didn't do anything wrong! They didn't even tell me exactly _why_ they arrested me and dragged me in here, something about kidnapping, but I never did anything like that, I swear!"

"We wouldn't have brought you in without a good reason, don't you think?" Tony retorted as he opened the folder he had carried in with him and extracted a few sheets of paper which he placed in front of Brandon. "You work for a company that rents water trucks. One of those trucks was found in the location where our missing agent was recovered."

Brandon checked the information on the sheet. "We reported that truck stolen yesterday." His brows knitted together in confusion. "Why would someone need a water truck to kidnap an agent?"

" _You_ needed the water to drown him."

Brandon's eyes widened in horror. " _Drown_ him? He...he's dead?"

"We found him in time."

He slumped against his chair, radiating relief. "That's good. But why do you think I had something to do with this?"

"Where we found our agent, there was a webcam recording what was happening. The feed was being broadcast through a website, and we were warned that any attempts to trace it would have consequences. A supposedly untraceable feed. Sound familiar?"

"No."

"That's funny, because you were bragging about your ability to create an untraceable feed on another website." Gibbs slid a few more pages across the table. "Chat logs. The username was traced to an account under the name of Blake Martin. Your father."

Brandon's whole demeanor changed as his eyes filled with hatred. "My father is dead."

"Yes, we know. He died in prison, where we put him. You decided to carry out a little vengeance in return."

The young man let out a bitter laugh. "Hardly. You people did me a favor. My father was a violent son-of-a-bitch and the greatest day of my life was when you hauled him off to jail. Vengeance is the _last_ thing I'd want." He leaned forward and looked Tony in the eye. "I swear to you, on...on everything, that I had nothing to do with this." He shook his head. "I know you've probably heard this before, but someone is setting me up. I don't know who, or why, but it's happening. I had _nothing_ to do with this!"

"Your fingerprints are on the truck," Gibbs replied, and Tony knew he was bluffing, but he waited to see if the gambit would pay off.

Brandon snorted. "Yeah, because I worked for the company that owns it! I've probably driven it some time in the last week. It's my job to fill the trucks when someone rents one."

"Aren't you a little young to have the right license to drive those?"

"I only drive them on the lot. My boss...he's a friend. Don't get him in trouble because of this, _please_."

"We'll need to talk to him."

"Fine, great. He'll back up everything I told you. _Everything_ , including the stuff about...my father."

"Where were you between last night at 8 PM and this afternoon?"

"With my girlfriend, Lisa Evans. All night. Then we drove to school together this morning. We go to the College of Southern Maryland, main campus. Check it out."

"We will."

"Great. Thank you. Can I go now?"

"Not yet."

"Well, then can you at least let me have my bookbag so I can study?"

"We'll see what we can do."

Brandon huffed and crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, clearly projecting annoyance. Tony and Gibbs left to have a quick debriefing in the hallway.

"You believe him?"

"I'll wait to see what Abby has to say."

"Gibbs!" Abby yelled as she rounded the corner and saw them.

"Speak of the devil...thanks, Boss."

"What do ya got, Abbs?"

"I did find Brandon Martin's fingerprints on the truck. They were in the database for child-care clearance-he works at his mother's daycare part time as well as at the truck rental place."

"Abbs!"

"Right, sorry. The cab of the truck was clean, but I found a print on the seat belt buckle. Little creep forgot about that part when he wiped the cab down."

"You got a hit on the print?"

"Yep, and you'll never guess whose it is."

"You're right, I won't. Tell me."

She smiled.

XXX

"Enjoy your flight, Mr. Anderson."

'Mr. Anderson' gave her his most charming smile. "I'm sure I will. Thank you." He took his first-class ticket and walked to the VIP lounge. It was much quieter inside and he sat down in one of the surprisingly comfortable leather chairs to relax before his one-way flight to Samoa, the only non-extradition country he felt comfortable visiting. He figured he could slip from there to a larger country where it was easier to disappear once the heat was off.

He leaned back in his chair and gave a soft laugh. He'd played his part well, but was surprised how easy it had been. He suspected it had something to do with still being perceived as a 'geek', a label he despised but found he could still use to his advantage for some things. It was how he had made his fortune, after all.

He frowned. Luckily he had hidden most of his money, but what he had earned in his other job would be lost in the divorce, including the house and custody of his kids. He hated the thought of leaving them, but his wife had been poisoning them against him for years. He doubted they would miss him much. And his wife...he should have seen what she was years ago, but he'd been too focused on his little hobby: getting revenge on NCIS.

Acting out his carefully planned crime had been far easier than he expected, although he had accounted for every scenario he could envision. He'd been surprised at how quickly Gibbs had agreed to play the game, and even more surprised at how quickly the team had solved the puzzle. Perhaps they weren't as stupid as he believed. Then again, the addition of the former NSA agent to the team, in the absence of McGee, had clearly raised the IQ level beyond what he was expecting. Still, they were no match for him, demonstrated by the ease with which he had fooled them during their ill-conceived 'interrogation'.

With a smile he leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling the need to relax a bit before his flight. Less than an hour and he'd be on his way out of the country, and out of Gibbs' reach for good.

"Hello, Urkel."

His eyes snapped open and he looked up to find two very pissed-off NCIS agents standing over him. "How...how did you find me?"

"Took a chance you'd skip town. Sent out a BOLO with your picture. Child's play."

"But-"

"Here's a hint: when you're wiping down a crime scene, make sure you don't miss a spot. We found a print." Agent DiNozzo leaned into his personal space and Frankel pressed himself into the back of the seat as far as he could. "Led us right to you. Looks like you're not as smart as you think you are, _Geek_."

"Don't call me that!"

Gibbs slammed his fist into the seat next to Frankel's head which silenced his protests immediately.

"Why'd you do it?"

"D-do what?"

Gibbs slammed his other fist into the chair on the other side of Frankel, causing him to flinch.

"Why did you try and kill McGee?"

"I...I think I'd like a lawyer. You didn't read me my rights-"

"You haven't been arrested yet. Don't need to. You should know that. What did they teach you in law school?"

"But-"

"Get up." Gibbs stood, freeing Frankel from his seat and he gingerly rose to his feet.

"Put your hands above your head," DiNozzo commanded, and Frankel quickly complied. "Stick out your tongue." He did so without hesitation and DiNozzo grinned. "Still a gargoyle, and not one of the good ones. _Now_ you're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent…"

Frankel listened, his fury growing as DiNozzo recited the warning to him for the second time in his life. Only this time, he knew he wasn't getting off easy.

XXX

Tony carefully opened the door and peered inside, observing the figure on the bed for a few moments before slipping inside the room and closing the door. McGee was covered from head to toe in warming blankets but still shivered every few minutes. Tony checked the monitors and noticed that McGee's temperature had risen to 95.5 F, still cold but finally out of hypothermia range, according to Ducky. Tony had absorbed that bit of info during the brief update he'd been given before entering McGee's room.

McGee had a cannula providing a steady flow of oxygen, something else that Ducky had said was necessary after being revived, especially since he had also nearly drowned. They would be monitoring him for signs of pneumonia as well, but all signs pointed to a full recovery. Physically, at least.

Tony had tried to imagine what it must have been like for McGee, stuck in that well, feeling the water rising and knowing his time was limited. And when that time had been so cruelly cut in half…

That was the part Tony hated the most. Frankel had manipulated them all, making them believe they were at fault for shortening the time they had to find McGee, when in fact he had planned it. He admitted that he knew someone would try and track him, so he set the trap and waited for an answer. It was just another way of twisting the knife in the heart of the team...and another way to torture McGee.

What Tony really couldn't understand at first was why Frankel had gone to so much trouble, but during his confession Frankel had admitted he had never forgiven the MCRT for ending his military career, which led to his family disowning him. Frankel admitted he had targeted McGee because he felt he was a traitor-one geek attacking another who was just trying to help, after all. Tony gritted his teeth at the memory. Frankel was clearly delusional, but not enough to warrant the insanity defense he was trying for. Gibbs made sure of that.

Tony saw McGee stir slightly and approached his bed, waiting for his friend to regain consciousness. He rested one of his hands against McGee's forehead and was rewarded with the sight of a pair of glazed green eyes opening to groggily stare back at him.

"Hey, Tim. Welcome back."

McGee blinked and his forehead crinkled slightly as he tried to figure out the meaning of Tony's greeting.

"Tim? You with me?"

"Yeah," he whispered.

"How are you feeling?"

His teeth chattered slightly. "Cold."

"They're working on that. You were almost a McPopsicle."

"What...happened?"

"What do you remember?"

He hesitated before answering. "Call out. Left my apartment...it was a trap. Someone attacked. Drugged. Woke up and...it was dark. Standing, tied up. Camera watching...then the water." The heart monitor started beeping faster and Tony rubbed McGee's shoulder in an attempt to calm him.

"It's OK. You're safe. We found you in time." He refrained from adding 'barely'. Tim didn't need to know that right now.

"Why...would someone...do this?"

"Oh, man. That's a long story."

"Listening."

"Right. You you remember the case, ten years ago or so, with the ROTC members being killed over some stupid assassination game?"

McGee thought for a few moments and slowly nodded. "One was...sending clues."

"Yeah, Urkel. Turns out he didn't appreciate being dragged into interrogation, or the fact his stunt cost him his place in ROTC. And his career."

"But...ten years?"

"' _Revenge is a dish best eaten cold_ '. Old Spanish proverb."

"You got that...from Ducky, didn't you?"

Tony chuckled. "You know me too well, Tim."

"Sometimes. So all of this was just...getting back at us for something _he_ did?"

"Yep."

"Damn."

"Couldn't agree more."

"So...what happens now?"

"Well, Frankel will spend some quality time as the guest of Uncle Sam, you are going to get all warmed up and out of here, and I am never looking at a museum the same way again."

"Museum?"

"Yeah. Urkel had us running all over the National Mall looking in museums and art galleries for clues to lead us to you." He winced. "Sorry it took us so long. You must have been...miserable."

"Stopped feeling anything...after a few hours."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"But you _are_ going to be OK. Boss's orders."

McGee gave him a weak smile. "Wouldn't expect anything less." He thought for a moment. "What were the clues?"

"Oh, man. That would take even longer to explain."

"Still listening."

Tony grinned. "And I am ever so glad for that." As the memories resurfaced, Tony's grin faded. "We thought… Well, that doesn't matter. We figured it out, and _that's_ all that does."

"Thanks...for finding me."

"You're welcome. You can repay me by never letting that happen again. Clear?"

Tim smiled and nodded, his eyes drifting shut as he fell into a-thankfully-peaceful sleep.

Tony watched his partner and friend, finally believing that Tim would be OK. Eventually.

That was all that mattered.

The End


End file.
